pearls and plumes
by dee-thequeenbee
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However, Robin Locksley is indeed single, but a wife is the last of his concerns. A pride & prejudice au, with Regina in the role of Mr. Darcy.
1. One

_A/N: third entry for the OQ prompt party. Wednesday._  
 _2\. pride & prejudice au, with Regina in the role of Mr. Darcy. _

* * *

**I**

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

However, Robin Locksley is indeed single, but a wife is the last of his concerns. Life can go on as it always did, slowly but surely, and it's _good_. He doesn't need a wife to complete his life, least he'll end up in a marriage like his parents'. Completely hurried, they are most decidedly not a good match. Truth be told, they have managed to bring to the world five children, so it hasn't been that bad.

George Albert Locksley and Eva Hannah White have married twenty-some years ago, and their first one was named David. Their father's favorite, he is, the charming one, and just all of the ladies want to marry him someday. His baby blue eyes will do that, to completely capture every woman who speaks with him.  
Then, Robin is the second, and Eva loves him particularly. He has a special bond with his mother, less so with his father.  
There is Alistair, a lonely soul, his nose always buried in books and such, his quiet demeanor making him a shy man – he does always seem to be bored with the other's low wit.  
Will is the fourth, and he could easily be considered as a lad who tries his best to be funny but fails, and he hasn't quite learned the tricks to charm the ladies, even so, if he will keep up with the silly pranks to his brothers.  
And Emma is the last one – his father's pride and joy, she's their little sister, and her brothers are very protective of her. Emma is a free spirit – young and impulsive, a bit of a tomboy, she has grown up surrounded with men, and learned very soon how to be listened.

Life at Longbourn couldn't go better. He fills his days with books, hunting, walks, and generally speaking he loves to be with people. He is, if you may call him so, a man of many talents, and he likes to be of help with the elderly, the poor, the underdogs. This behavior, fueled by Eva's compassion, irks his father to no end. He has always thought his life would be a clear, well-defined path: he'd find a nice girl from the countryside, buy a little home, and spend his days there – raising kids and caring for the pigs in the backyard. Simple.

And yet, not that simple.

Longbourn has long lost his high status, the money they were about to inherit when Eva's father had died have been wiped out of existence. Robin was just a boy then, but he remembers words like _Leo has lost it all_ , and _Cards and wine, what else_ , so now they… live on, but the fortune is long gone. Of course, he hears it in his father's words, he reads it in his mother's gaze, it's there: the undeniable hope for their children to find a good match, tie in a good marriage, with wealthy girls, so they can leave the property to just one of them. They simply can't live there once their parents have gone, not all five of them. Emma may be the easiest, in that sense: she's beautiful and a little silly, dreaming of her prince, and when she's of age she will probably find a husband to make her happy. The others, well, it's… difficult.

Robin loves to be alive. He just loves everything of the world. Nature, books, discovery: those are things keeping a man alive, the beating of a heart, the burning of one's thighs after a long walk. Climbing trees. Swimming in the lake nearby. He has no interest in paintings, music, art: things that are inherently for a woman's soul. (Books, yes, that he can live with. His brother has been able to address him towards some of his favorite, that Robin has devoured but pretended not to like.)  
Still he thinks he'd make a good husband. But he's not just going to _settle_ , as his father would want for all of them.

Yet it will be necessary, if they want to save Longbourn.

Letters on letters have been sent during the years, hoping to provide their family a solution, but there isn't any: they can marry, or join the army or the clerk, as usual for the boys of an once-wealthy house. His father is pained to see them, Robin knows, during those lazy summer afternoons, when life goes slow and they swim in the river, ride horses, and Alistair is sitting under a tree with a book.

It's during one of those said afternoons that a letter comes. And Robin doesn't know, but that letter is about to change everything.

(He's never liked writing letters so much. They are, somehow, required in the society he lives in, but he tries not to dawdle too much in them. One can get lost in words, Will has said once, with a pointed look to Alistair.)

That letter brings unexpected news and of course his mother already knows what is that it's hidden in the envelope. Gossip in Meryton flies fast. His mother always says that the quickest way to let your affairs be known is to entrust old Leroy with them.

So that afternoon, Robin is strolling down the longest path back home, back from one of his walks in the woods, he's opened the front gate, and suddenly he's almost thrown away by a fast, pink, yellow little thing running towards the house. Emma runs inside, waving the elegant piece of paper, and her long blond hair bounces on her back as she enters the kitchen. "There's a ball!"

Their mother snatches the letter from her hands, with more hurry than composed grace, and reads quickly. "It's at the Meryton Town Hall, tomorrow, in honor of a Miss Blanchard," she informs the family. "Isn't it, darling, the lady…?"

George also takes the invitation, skims it, but the question his wife has just made is not pinned in ink. "It's that rich girl who wants to buy Netherfield," he says. "Her father died and now she's inherited it all. With great joy of her younger brother, but alas, the old man's will said she was the one to gain the price."

"Are we going, Mama?" Emma pleads, her green eyes so wide. Robin raises an eyebrow. Emma is not that old, after all, but balls like this one are greatly supervised by the eldest, so she is, in fact, allowed to.

"Oh darling, of course we are. The Lord knows we should hope for one of your brothers to charm her enough and to marry her. Of course that would be our David, right, dear?"

Robin shakes his head, deeply amused. David has just turned red, but he's smiling.

"And you, Mr Locksley, will have to go and introduce our family to this Miss Blanchard. It is only polite, after all. And you shall do it before our dear neighbors do. Oh, Emma, sweetheart, we ought to go to the boutique this afternoon. I know there is going to be an enormous crowd now that the invitations have been sent, and we should really buy a new dress, shouldn't we?"

George shakes his head, choosing not to comment about their evident lack of money and his wife non-existent need of dresses, and he exits. Robin winks at David (he just can't pass out the chance of teasing his favorite brother). "Are you ready for the orange flowers, man?"

"Oh shut up," David answers, patting his shoulder. "What about you? Maybe you will like this Miss Blanchard and you will marry her first. I will end up an old spinster and you will have to take me in your beautiful, ten-thousand-pounds-a-year house."

"You could be the nanny," Robin answers. "Old Meg's kid always loved you, you taught him how to burp."

"I'm a man of many talents," David answers. "So, shall we go see if we have something suitable in our closets to be introduced to the fine Miss Blanchard? Remember, Robin: to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love."

Robin laughs, and follows his brother upstairs. This ball is going to be either a disaster or a perfect evening, and he can't wait to discover which one will come true. What do they even know of this Miss Blanchard, after all? Of course, the perfect little heiress. He can just picture her – haughty, not a humble bone in her body, all content with her money and splendid estates. He pities David, but he can't wait for this ball.

Who needs a wife, when life provides you _herself_ with such an entertainment?


	2. Two

_A/N: thanks to all for your beautiful reviews. sending lots of love!  
here's some Regina's PoV; enjoy!_

* * *

 **II**

She doesn't want to go to this stupid party.

Regina sighs, as she smoothes invisible wrinkles on her dress. She'd give anything to just stay home, in this poor excuse of a house – still better than going there, to the Town Hall, to mingle with whatever sort of peasants are inhabiting this side of the country.

Truth is, she misses home.

Pemberley and its trees and lakes, Pemberley and her sister playing the piano all day long, Pemberley and her books and her horses. She's agreed to accompany Mary in this… vacation, however she wants to call it, but home is where she belongs. Far from the madding crowd.

She will see what the evening brings. Mary knows she doesn't like to go out in public – still, she has always… pushed for Regina to at least interact with people. They grew up together, Mary and her, so it was only natural that Mary would take it as her sworn duty to ease Regina's way into an amicable relationship with society. And of course, there is talking of husbands – every time she goes see her old aunt, Lady Cora, she just _loves_ to ask if Regina has found someone yet, she adores to repeat that she can't end up an old spinster, that she has to give Pemberley an heir.

Regina knows Cora would love to set her up with her son, Percival. But unfortunately, the man is not the… healthiest person ever existed, and society would frown upon such an union. _A waste_ , her maid has said once, _to marry a frail man, just a waste, miss_. Cora hadn't liked it – that Regina could think about rejecting him.

But alas, it's done now, she smiles to herself. Pemberley is _hers,_ and hers alone, as her father left it, until she finds a man who's worthy of sharing it with her. She may never do. Well, she's not opposed to her sister inheriting everything. Contrarily to what Cora believes, Regina loves her sister, Belle, in ways that Cora never could with hers – Regina's mother, Colette, died when the girls where both very young.

"Regina!" Mary's excited voice pipes up from up the stairs, interrupting her thoughts. "You're ready! Shall we go?"

°.°

The Town Hall reverberates of laughter and music when their carriage approaches it. She groans at the thought of the _people_. Mary squeezes her hand in kind, as if she knows exactly what Regina isn't saying. "It will be alright," she soothes. "We go in, have a few dances and then go home. You don't even have to dance. You can just stay there with Daniel and have a few drinks, right?"

"I suppose I can," Regina sighs. Mary exits first, offering her arm to a kind man outside. Then Daniel, and he offers Regina his arm, and she takes it, sending him a grin. She's always known that Daniel would like to marry her. But if she's honest with herself, she won't end up in a marriage she doesn't fully appreciate just because she happens to know her fiancé well. She grew up with him, for heaven's sake. He's been her friend's little brother for a long time, and he's always been kind, but… it's not enough.

"Miss Mills," their host greets her. He's something like a knight, she believes. "It is a pleasure to meet you, at last. The tales of your beauty have traveled the lands."

She eyes him, mistrusting, but he seems gentle and maybe it was a compliment and nothing else. "Thank you, Sir Lucas," she nods curtly, her lips tugging up slightly. If he was expecting small talk, she won't give it.

He looks at her, puzzled, but before he can say something, she finds herself inside. And it's even worse than she's imagined earlier, in the quietness that was Netherfield.

People are dancing, laughing and drinking in every corner, and the dance floor is practically covered with moving bodies. But the worst part is that, as soon as they're inside, everything… stops. Hundreds of eyes turn towards them, and Regina represses a shiver.

They have to parade through the room to get to the other side, apparently, and she feels watched, scrutinized, valued – at every step, but then they're there, and it lasted some seconds, but in her head it lasted years of torment.

After a moment of silence, the musicians wake up from their temporary coma, and restart playing, and everyone starts moving again. She still feels eyes on her, but keeps her chin up, hoping they will stop soon. After all, she's just a novelty, in this crystallized world, and they practically see money when they watch at her. No one will be kind to her because of her heart, here.

She holds on to Daniel's arm, and hopes this will be quick and painless.

°.°

"Do you dance, Miss Mills?"

Her eyes snap towards the voice, and she narrows them. "No, thank you," she says. It seems like she's saying a lot of _thank you'_ s tonight, whereas she would very much love to go home and curl up in her bed. And cry.

The way the man is looking at her is… unsettling. His eyes are blue like the sea, and she thinks that maybe she's been too quick in refusing him her hand for a dance.

But she knows who he is – who they all are, they've already been introduced, after all. The Locksleys. Mary has taken quite a shine to the eldest – David, she believes, with whom she's happily dancing right now. Her eyes are on Mary, cheeks red and eyes bright as David guides her through the dance steps.

She doesn't like it.

She doesn't like any of this – who knows if this David will be true to his word, if he will ever exchange the feelings Mary will have developed once this evening is over. She knows David's mother is around here somewhere, telling everyone how her David always wins everyone's hearts, how he's so kind and such a good catch for a woman. Regina swirls her cup of wine, lost in thoughts.

"Let's walk a little," Daniel tells her, after disentangling himself from an enthusiastic young woman. She gladly accepts – the corner of the room and the doors leading to other halls with be quieter, darker, maybe they can dull her headache a little. All of this screaming is so annoying, so… fit for peasants.

"You haven't danced with Robin Locksley," Daniel says, once they've distanced themselves from the crowd.

"Your sister is dancing with the only pleasant man in the room," she tells him. "I've no interest in… any of this," she gestures towards the room. "You know it."

"Still, what was wrong with him?"

"He's barely… tolerable," she answers, after rolling a few adjectives around in her mind. "Not interesting enough to tempt me."

"Oh I see," Daniel snickers. "Oh, poor you. Are you sure you're not too fast of a judge of character?"

"I'm not like Mary," she replies, lowly. "You know I am beyond tired of people trying to set me up with anyone, just for the sake of seeing me married."

She averts her eyes from Daniel before he can answer, and sets them on the dancing couples. Here it is, Mr Locksley. David is dancing with Mary again, for what has to be the sixth time. And Robin – Robin is with some dull blonde, all smiles and kindness, and Regina frowns.

 _So he's like this with everyone?_ she thinks. Offering vivacity and that kind of contentment that comes from enjoying life at its fullest, not a care in the world. A sigh escapes her lips, before she can shake herself and resume her neutral expression.

°.°

Just when they're about to go, Daniel's gone to call their carriage, and Regina finds herself alone with Mary, who's bidding goodnight to David, and Robin.

"Did you have fun tonight, Miss Mills?" he asks, with that openness she both envies and is afraid of.

"I… spent a reasonably good time," she answers. Her eyes fall down, where her dress has been splashed of mud at its edge. Of course.

"I bet it's different from the balls in London, isn't it?" he tries again. Regina doesn't answer. "But I am sure that anyone could have a good time at a ball like this one," he continues. "The secret is keeping an open mind, to be incline to enjoy yourself and not to judge anyone from the first impression." She looks at him now – nothing, in his voice or tone, suggests he's upset.

But then, he surprises her. "Even if a particular someone is _barely tolerable_ ," he says. His smirk reaches his eyes, and she watches, paralyzed, as he bows his head in a curt movement and tells her, _Goodnight, Miss Mills_.

She is still as he leaves with his brother, follows his figure as he goes away, and doesn't listen to Mary's blabbering about the party and how her feet hurt.

God, she hates this place.


	3. Three

_A/N: i haven't updated this one for the longest time, but here it is. for OQ prompt party, wednesday: "I just want to see you smile" (114)._

* * *

 **III**

When the letter arrives, that morning, it's mayhem.

Their parents are losing their mind after a piece of paper – no matter how important are the words on said piece of paper, Robin cannot for the life of him find that much significance into a simple invitation.

And yet, not even David can maintain his usual calm as he reads it over and over. "I knew he was a good man," he says, satisfied, as he reads the letter once again.

"Who's a good man?" Emma asks, entering the room. Her dress is dirty – evidently, she's been riding one of their horses again, and she can never remember to change into a riding dress or pants.

"Daniel Blanchard invited him for a late breakfast," Robin answers, bored. He's happy for David – that Blanchard girl has clearly taken a shine to him, and her brother inviting David can only mean good things, but he cannot stop thinking about another set of eyes. Brown eyes. And he has thought about that woman since the ball, and – _well it's a shame she's so arrogant_ , he thinks.

"So you'll go to see the Blanchards?" Emma asks, ecstatic. "Can I come?"

"Absolutely not," their father interrupts, walking inside the kitchen. "He'll go by horse."

"But it's about to rain," Robin argues. "Or there's a storm coming. Even the dog just came inside."

"That's alright, son," George says. "Your brother will be alright. A bit of rain never hurt a soul."

°.°

When David doesn't come home, that afternoon, he doesn't think much about it. His father keeps looking outside the window, all satisfied, as cascades of water pour down from the skies. And – as it was to be expected, another letter comes, and it's David, saying that he fell from the horse – spooked by a thunder – and he has sprained his ankle, and they found him near the estate and he's fine, really, there is no need to worry.

So of course Robin has to go.

The walk is only some miles long, and he loves walking, that's not an issue. But David – he can only imagine how embarrassed he must feel, David who doesn't like to be seen in pain even if it's just his brother, and being in the house of strangers must be… horrible.

When he arrives, he is promptly introduced by a valet, and they're all there – Mr Blanchard, Miss Blanchard and Miss Mills, having breakfast. He bows his head, and sees them get up and greet him. Daniel is pleasant and kind, and Mary is just enough worried to make him notice how much she has been scared by David's ordeal. But Regina is cold as always, detached, as she politely welcomes him and tells him he can stay for as long as he pleases, until his brother has recovered.

Robin is confused.

She has never spoken to him for so long, and she has yet to crack a smile. He is starting to wonder if this woman can smile at all.

°.°

They lead him to David's bedroom, where is ankle has been propped up with a pillow, and he's looking outside the window.

"Hello," he tells him, and David turns, flashing him a smile.

"There was no reason to come all the way here, I'm fine," he protests. "I knew this was going to happen. That horse has always been scared of storms."

"Well, it could have gone worse. You could have hit your head," he reasons, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And father would have lost his golden child," he smiles.

"There's always you keeping up the spirits, brother," David answers. "Honestly. They've been so kind to me, and Miss Blanchard is an amazing hostess. She had them bring me breakfast in bed, you know."

"I… I see," Robin chuckles, thinking how is it possible that two souls that are so similar ended up meeting in the best of circumstances. For a moment, he envies his brother's luck. "And I'm glad you're enjoying your stay. What did the doctor say?"

He chats with David for a while, and then his brother asks him to please let him rest. Robin knows he got himself a cold, from all the riding under the storm, so he leaves him be, closing the door behind him. And when he turns, there's none other than Regina Mills staring at him.

°.°

"Miss Mills," he bows, that infuriating smirk back in place.

"Mr Locksley," she answers, trying to sound polite even though after the ball, the first thing she'd like to do would be to slap him. "Is your brother alright?"

"Yes, thank you," he says. "I trust that him being here is not too much of an inconvenience?"

"Not at all," she murmurs. Her mind is already desperately searching for a way to escape this situation, but his eyes keep drawing her gaze back to him, and her heart accelerates, and no – this is not good. She presses two fingers on the inside of her wrist, trying to hide the gesture, counting her beats and trying to calm down, because her brain has been spiraling since her aunt Cora's letter this morning, and…

"Are you alright, Miss Mills?" he tilts his head, as if he was trying to read her in some way. But she is not, and she won't have him know that – all she needs is fresh air, and –

"I need to breathe," she lets out, maybe she's not been polite, but she'd hate to make a scene in front of him. She passes him quickly, going for the nearest balcony, and unlocks the door with shaky fingers and finally, inhales the cool air of midday.

Much to her disdain, after a few deep breaths she realizes he has followed her.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" he asks, his voice low. "I've always hated the kind of stale air in the corridors of houses like this. The halls are fine, but the corridors are just suffocating."

He's offering her a way out, she knows it. Her cheeks heat up, because he must know, how she was taken by that wave of –

"It certainly is a lovely day," she answers, mechanically. "I was told you came here by foot."

"I like to walk," he tells her, easily. How he's always so open and relaxed with any kind of person, she doesn't understand. "More than I like to ride, I'm afraid."

"I love to ride," she says, doesn't realize she gave him a little piece of that information she's been so jealous of. Until she sees that he's looking at her with awe, and she feels compelled to add, "I… I find it calming. I've always liked horses, and… they're connected to so many happy memories."

"Oh are they? Tell me more, please," he asks, leaning against the balcony rail. "Since I'm not that fond of horses like you are, I'd like to hear what you love about them."

She breathes, eyes fixated on the trees of the park instead of on him. "I just… I used to go with my father, and… I just like the feeling of when I ride, of the wind in my hair and the speed. The danger, maybe, but mostly the freedom – knowing that when I'm out there with my horse, I'm not Regina of Pemberley, or the heiress, or the woman half the country wants to marry just for her riches. I'm… just Regina."

Her hands curl around the balcony rail as she finally looks at him, realizing with horror that she said too much, and how could she think it would be alright, telling him all of that? Now he surely will…

"That sounds quite wonderful, milady," he murmurs. "Thank you for entrusting me with such a story. I really like the idea of freedom you just told me about… But now, though, I'd like to wager a bet with you."

"A bet?" she repeats, confused.

"A horseback ride, when the sky will clear out," he proposes, smiling. "If you win, I'll forgive you for what you said at the ball."

She doesn't mean to, but she finds herself staring at him, a corner of her lips lifting up – because she thought he was boring and dull, but it turns out he's got a sense of humor.

"There are high chances of seeing me win, I must warn you," she tells him. "What happens if you win?"

At this point, his smile grows even more, and he bites his lip. "Well if I win, milady, what I ask is really simple. I just want to see you smile."

Her eyebrow raises, and she has to fight against herself not to smile right _now_ , and ruin all of his carefully constructed charade. "Well then, Mr Locksley. I'll see you tomorrow at dawn."

And without another word, she leaves him there.


End file.
